


Ties that Bind

by Karis_Artemisia_Judith



Series: Ties that Bind [1]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Aftercare, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 21:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3426788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karis_Artemisia_Judith/pseuds/Karis_Artemisia_Judith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna gives Kristoff a special gift, tied up in red ribbon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ties that Bind

Kristoff opened the door of the bathroom, running a hand through his damp hair, and nearly tripped over the length of red ribbon tied to the doorknob.

It had been a long day. The winter season seemed to involve more events and parties every year, his suit had itched, and a tipsy countess had gotten a sticky, syrupy fruit drink all over his sleeve. He'd left the clothes bunched in a corner, hoping that they were ruined and could be disposed of—with fire, perhaps—and had put on a pair of loose sleeping pants, expecting to tiptoe into a dark bedroom and find his wife already asleep.

Except that she wasn't asleep. She was sitting at the foot of the bed, dressed in her nightgown and robe, red ribbon wound around her. Anna smiled at him, biting her lip lightly.

Kristoff looked from her to the trail of wide ribbon that ran across the room. He untied it from the doorknob. The other end was twisted around her wrists and knotted into a clumsy bow—she must have used her teeth, he thought.

"What's this?"

"It's a present. Well, sort of…part of a present," Anna said hesitantly. "I thought…Well, I thought…" She was starting to blush, crimson spreading over her cheeks. "You know how that odious duke kept saying all those things about men who have to obey their wives? And how it must be so trying to be outranked?"

"That duke is an idiot." He shrugged. "It didn't matter. Anna—I don't think like that. You know that, right?"

She nodded. "But still. I started thinking…I do boss you around a lot, and give you orders, and I thought…I thought maybe…." Her voice trailed off and her teeth dug nervously into her soft lower lip for a moment.

"Anna?"

"The present is me," she blurted, lifting her bound hands and twitching the yards of ribbon that stretched between them. Anna smiled up at him, eyes bright and brave.

 _Oh_. Kristoff leaned against the door and smiled back at her. This was a game.

Before Anna, his ideas about intimacy had been vague, unfocused—the mechanics seemed clear enough, and the importance of giving pleasure had been impressed upon him, although without much elaboration as to method. Nothing had prepared him for the feeling of loving Anna, or for the way that love took general desire and focused it, sharpened it, and stabbed him in the gut with it at unexpected and often inconvenient times. It had been…very confusing, at first, when he would turn to speak to her and stop dumb halfway through a sentence because he'd been struck by the delicacy of her collarbones, or the curve of her hip. And nothing could have prepared him for what it meant to have his desire matched by hers, amplified and expanded by hers. It was…very good. But even then he would have been content to taste that same goodness over and over again. After all, he'd done the same work and eaten the same meals most of his life. He didn't tire of simple, good things. It would never have occurred to him to play games in the bedroom. With Anna, however, anything could (and eventually would) be turned into a game.

He was learning to like games.

Kristoff twirled the red satin between his fingers idly, feeling the slow burn of  _want_  spread through his belly. "You're my present?" he asked softly, and he saw Anna relax a little, licking her lips. She nodded.

"This—" she twitched the ribbon again, making it ripple. "This is to show that you…you're in charge. You can do anything you want, or…" She swallowed.

"Or?"

"Or tell me to do anything."

The burn burst into full flame, scorching through his blood. Kristoff took a shallow breath, then tugged on the ribbon. Anna slid off the bed and he drew her to him, gathering up the ribbon and winding it neatly around his arm, as if it were his climbing rope. This close he could smell the scent of roses clinging to her skin. He tilted her chin up.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, her body swaying into his slightly. "Anything."

"Anna—" He cupped her cheek. The satin ribbon was still twined through his fingers, and he stroked her skin with it. "You trust me?"

"Yes." It was a breathy sigh, but her voice steadied as she looked into his face. "I'm sure. I trust you."

He kissed her. Then he stepped back and untied the ineffectual knot at her wrists.

"Kristoff--?"

"Shh."

He turned away, kneeling to build up the fire. It had been a small one, just meant to warm the room during the brief time it would have taken them to seek out the warmth of the heavy coverlet, but Kristoff built it up into a hearty blaze before he turned back to his wife. She was waiting, hesitant in the middle of the floor, hands twisting in front of her. Wide blue eyes followed him as he went to sit at the foot of the bed, where she had been. The coil of ribbon draped over his knee and he rubbed it between finger and thumb.

"This means that I'm in charge?"

"Yes."

"And you trust me?"

"Yes."

He met her eyes, felt his heart thud all through his body. He swallowed, nodded. The room was warm enough now. "Undress. But--slowly."

Slim fingers plucked at the little pearl buttons of her robe. It slid back from her shoulders and down her arms, pooling around her feet. The nightdress beneath it would have been modest enough, if it hadn't been made of silk so thin that he could see the light of the fire behind her, outlining her body. The delicate fabric draped and clung provocatively, and rather than tug it over her head Anna took her time with another row of little buttons. He watched as the gown parted, revealing freckled breasts, nipples already tight and proud. Then she was pushing it down, shimmying her hips a little. And then she was bare. The firelight glowed on her skin, her hair, and Kristoff crushed the ribbon in his hand.

"Come here," he said. She stepped forward eagerly—too eagerly, as her foot tangled in the shed nightgown and sent her stumbling. Kristoff stood, catching her. But no sooner had he set her on her feet then he was lifting her again. Anna started when her backside touched the edge of the round table. It was where they occasionally had private meals, a sturdy piece of furniture, as all the furniture in their room was, and it was well lit by the fire and the candles. The bed, he had decided, was too much in shadow.

"Get on your knees. Here. I want to look at you."

She knelt obediently. Kristoff brushed her cheek with his fingertips, then ran a rough hand down her body, over her breast to her hip, her knee. He pushed gently. "Spread them apart." His other hand slid around her, cupping her backside, pressing her hips forward. He could see the slickness that glistened on her inner thighs already, could see the tender pink flesh of her, opening like petals. Like the rose that perfumed her flushed skin.

He stepped back to admire her. Her breath came in short pants, making her breasts shudder, and her eyes were dark as she watched him. Glowing copper hair tumbled around her shoulders. She was beautiful. And she was his. His gift.

"You hands," he said roughly. "In front of you." Not the most coherent command, but Anna instantly pressed her wrists together, holding them out. She licked her lips again. His knots were far more experienced than hers had been, and made carefully so that they couldn't slip and tighten further or cut into her. The red of the ribbon was a vivid contrast the milky white of her arm and he paused to admire her again. She was trembling.

"All right?"

Anna nodded vigorously.

"Tell me," he ordered.

"I'm all right. I'm…it's good."

He caught her face in his hands and kissed her hard, feeling her gasp against his lips. His hands ran down her back, over her shaking thighs. The trailing red ribbon was caught between them and he fumbled for it, wrapping it around his fist and breaking the kiss to pull her wrists up above her head and back, pinning her hands behind her neck, his satin-twined fingers resting between her shoulder blades. Anna gazed up at him with dark eyes, damp lips parted. He tugged a little harder and her back arched, bending like a bow, breasts thrust out as her head fell back between the cradle of her elbows.

It made her whimper when he tugged one hardened peak into his mouth, licking, sucking hard unto the whimper became a wail. When he switched to the other breast his hand kneaded and pinched the first. She squirmed and writhed in his grip, fighting the restraint of the ribbon, but when he checked her face he saw only lust glazed eyes and a red, bitten lip. He kissed it, and bit it again for good measure.

"Hands and knees," he muttered. "Turn around."

Guiding her with firm hands, he positioned Anna with her knees wide, her perfect round backside lifted. He ran a hand up her back, pressing her shoulders down until her cheek was flat against the table. One palm rubbed over her buttock, slipped between her legs to rub the flat of his hand against her. She gasped at the contact, then cried out as two fingers thrust hard into her slick heat. She was so close, already so hot and wet, and he wanted to see her, wanted to hear her, his Anna. He stroked mercilessly in and out even as she began to come apart. Anna screamed, back arching, and he gripped her hip to hold her still as he thrust deeper, curving his fingers and rubbing his thumb over her clit until her whole body bucked and jerked again.

Anna's voice broke on a second ragged scream and she collapsed against the polished wood, shudders coursing down her back, her splayed legs trembling. He rounded the table and crouched by her head. Red hair, damp and curly with sweat, spilled over the table edge, hiding her face. Kristoff gathered the thick mass up, twisting it gently around his right hand and using the other to smooth back the stray tendrils that clung to her cheeks. Her fingers clutched at the rounded table rim, her forehead pressed down against her bound forearms. When his fingers nudged at her cheek she let her head loll wearily to one side with the softest of whimpers. Kristoff kissed her temple.

"Done?" he asked quietly, stroking a thumb over her cheek.

Anna twitched, blinking some of the dazed glassiness out of her eyes.  "Mm. No," she whispered. "Not done.  _You_  aren't done."

"I am if you are—"

She shook her head, turning to press into his touch. Her tongue flicked against his thumb, and when he brushed it against her lips she parted them, drawing it into her mouth and sucking. "Anna—"

She let him go. "I can take it," Anna said. Her head lifted and she steadied herself on her knees. Her eyes glittered in the candlelight. "Let me show you.  _Make_  me show you."

Kristoff stood and pulled her upright, supporting her against his chest, holding her head as he kissed her firmly. Her soft, slim tongue tangled with his, an aggressive contrast to how limp and pliant her body was in his arms. He groaned so deeply it sounded like a growl in his own ears. When their lips parted Anna let her head fall to one side, against his shoulder, and his teeth found the side of her neck, scraping against the vulnerable skin, biting and sucking until she whined, squirming. Clumsy fingers tugged at his waistband and managed to find the buttons, but with her wrists bound she couldn't work the closure. He put his mouth near her ear.

"Do you want something, princess?" She nodded against his shoulder. "Ask me for it."

"I want—" She kissed his collarbone, shifted to kiss across his chest. "I want you. I want your cock."

He reached down and flicked open a button as soft lips brushed his sternum. "What do you say?" he demanded gruffly. Anna peaked up at him as she kissed his belly.

"Please," she said. He slipped another button free, and she bent lower, her breath warm on his hip. "Please—" The last button popped, and it took hardly any encouragement from Anna's bound hands for his hard and aching cock to stand free. The trailing ribbon brushed over sensitive skin, making him hiss. Anna, fumbling just a little, gathered the soft, slippery material in her hands and stroked it over him, sliding his length between satin-covered palms. Her lips ghosted over the head, and without thinking Kristoff wound his hand once more in her hair.

She looked up at him, her hands braced for balance on the table top, her spine curving as she bent forward, waiting. He caught his breath as he looked down into questioning, teasing, hungry blue eyes. They had never done  _this_ , not  _this way_ —he'd never asked her for it, never dared, and when she'd given it to him before it had been after she'd pushed him back on the bed, after she'd asked him if he wanted, if she could, if it was allowed, and he'd been so careful not to grab her or thrust up against her, never demanding, never—

His hand tightened in her hair, and her lips parted. "Suck me," he commanded hoarsely.

Warm, wet lips closed around him eagerly, her tongue swirling and stroking. Kristoff groaned, swearing under his breath as her head bobbed, as she moved to draw him deeper.  His head fell back with a sigh when her lips tugged gently. Without thinking his hand guided her down again, and he opened glazed eyes, looking down to watch as his length disappeared into her throat. Blunt nails pressed into the skin of his hip and he pulled back, but Anna only took a few gasping breaths, licking her lips before she opened them again. He felt the vibration of her moan as his fingers tugging in her hair, hips pressing forward until she choked and he pulled away. But she looked up at him, the determination that conquered mountains glinting in her eyes. "Again," he murmured, half command, half question, and she nodded. He took himself in his free hand, rubbing against her lips. "Ask for it."

"Please." Her tongue flicked out. " _Please_."

This time she didn't choke, taking him deep in her throat until he couldn't even think enough to swear, because the only word he could think was her name and it fell in a ragged chant on the air,  _Anna_ , who gave herself so completely,  _Anna_ , who hummed and sucked and swallowed,  _Anna_ , who was the whole world,  _Anna_ , her name not a curse but a fervent and desperate prayer.

One hand still tight in her hair, he ran the other over her back, over her breasts, making her squeak against him as he pinched. Rough fingers slid between her parted legs and she squirmed, still sensitive.  Kristoff found the long tail of the ribbon, wrapping it around his fingers and stroking it over her, as she had with him. He rubbed the delicate, swollen petals, avoiding the over-tender bud of her clit until he felt himself tightening. Then his fingertip flicked over her roughly, even as his hand tugged warningly on her hair, and she shuddered as she swallowed, as he spilled himself in her throat and his vision blurred with pleasure. " _Anna_."

His legs were shaking when he stepped back. Anna slumped in a heap on the table, half curled on her side, sweat shimmering on her pale, freckled skin as she trembled. Kristoff touched her shoulder softly. "All right?"

"Mmhm," she mumbled, but she made no attempt to move.

He carefully slid an arm under her shoulders, the other under her knees, lifting her up from the unyielding surface of the table to cradle her against his chest. She was as limp as a wilted flower, but she smiled faintly as he set her down on the bed and kissed her forehead. When the knots loosened and he pulled the ribbon away she sighed, letting her arms flop on either side of her.

"I'll be right back," he told her. In the bathroom the water had grown tepid, but it wasn't cold. He washed himself roughly, then soaked a soft cloth and wrung it out. Anna stirred only a little as he gently wiped the sweat from her skin and the stickiness from her chin, her thighs. When she was clean he coaxed her up to sit leaned against him and drink a glass of water from the bedside pitcher.

She gave him the glass to set aside, and sagged bonelessly into his arms. Kristoff pressed his lips to her forehead, her temple, fingertips combing gently through her hair. He could feel the brush of her lashes his shoulder, where her head rested, could feel the softness of her skin where she was pressed warm against him, could feel her breathing.

"Do you want your nightdress?"

"Mm. I don't need it. I'm not cold."

Her voice was a tired mumble, but relaxed as she was she didn't go to sleep. They sat in a bubble of tender quiet for a long time until the fire was burning low and dim.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I love you. Gods, Anna, I love you so much."

He felt her smile against his chest before she kissed it, snuggling closer. "You'd better. I love you, too."

"Ready to sleep?"

"Mm."

Kristoff shifted her to the middle of the bed, carefully drawing the blanket up and tucking both it and himself around her. His precious gift.


End file.
